The Drone is one of my life story poems, a tale about the meaning of life, human existence, and thoughts on whether we are of any use at all. This is about misfortunes, lucky coincidences, resistance, and family support.
The Drone – Life Story Poems
First, he lay in a cardboard box, and then after that,
He went to school with his toes sticking out.
His mother and father did very little only
Work their fingers to the bone to scrape together
The price of a pint of milk every day. No Sunday roast
No beach holidays, nothing to show for, except,
Perhaps the big old oak tree in the back garden
Behind the house, his great grandfather built
With layabout-bricks and concrete knicked from
the factory down the road.
In the middle of the night, I’d climb the wall
Barefoot, his last words. And now,
The boy is sitting on the tree about to
Be a grown man having spent his school years
In the same place or tucked away beneath.
He did not see it coming, the drone that nearly
Killed him belonging to the guy at school
He’s never talked to even once. As it happens, it only
Knocked him off the top branch. To be fair,
Hospital food is not that bad and some of the nurses…….
He's thinking, sinking into the snow-white cotton sheets
For one more night.